


Cold Coffee

by coffeeworld



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:32:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6385717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeworld/pseuds/coffeeworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Christmas party, Haise convinces himself to go and speak to the pretty waitress at :re.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Coffee

It is Boxing day when Haise Sasaki storms into her café. Touka is cleaning some mugs and wondering why she even bothered opening up when he arrives, letting a sharp gust of wind echo through the door behind him.

“Hi there.” Touka says with a smile. Her legs are shaking behind the counter and her stomach has dropped to the floor, but she doesn’t let it show. “What can I get you?”

He gives her that sweet grin that is all Kaneki, and shuffles his feet awkwardly. “I guess, well, you.” He laughs awkwardly and Touka swallows.

She knows the whole thing is a terrible idea, but she still lets him kiss her, and when he seems unsure it is her who leads him upstairs to her flat. Even if he doesn’t know her, his body remembers, and Touka can’t help but succumb to the burning desire that echoes between them as they writhe on the bed. She is kissing him, breathing in the scent that is so vividly familiar and _him,_ when he jerks away, a hand clutched to his face. She sees a blaze of black and red peeking out from between his fingers and can’t help but smile. Well, she supposes, it is a type of hunger. In the end he insists she closes her eyes for the whole thing. Touka doesn’t mind- if anything it helps her to pretend that she is in some other place- some other time. As his body moves on top of her, she thinks she can smell coffee. Afterwards, she rolls to the side, pain aching in her chest and presses her knees against her stomach. Haise leans over and kisses her gently on the lips and the kiss tastes of salt, but Touka isn’t sure which of them is crying. She forces a smile, gives him her number and tells him to come back for coffee and hates herself all the while for being so weak. Her body is already aching to feel his touch again no matter how painful it might be.

At first it is just sex, but it doesn’t take long for the whole mess to develop into something more serious. Even as she tries her best to pull away, she finds the spark that had dimmed down to a dull glow over the past year or so blazing back into brilliance. Every time he walks into the café she will tell herself that this is it- that this time she’ll end it- but instead they will end up in a mass of entangled limbs in the storage cupboard and her resolves melts away into a gooey mess. He still blindfolds her every time. One time she feels brave and teases him about it, but he looks so broken, and so like the boy she used to know that she finds herself apologising and kissing him and never mentions it again. Somewhere along the way the lines get blurred. It’s not just lust anymore, but coffee afterwards, and reading together in the breakroom at :re, and going out for walks and texting each other goodnight. When he tells her he loves her she doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Touka does her best to hide it from Yomo, but he’s not stupid and he figures it out almost straight away.

“You’re making a mistake.” He tells her.

And she laughs and tells him that she knows. She fucking knows. But if it was that easy to stop then she would have done it long ago.

So it carries on, and she does her best not to think too much about the past, or the fact that he’s a dove, because if she does she knows it will all start hurting too much to bear. Haise never mentions work when they are together, which makes it a just a tiny bit easier, but sometimes they’ll be walking down the street and he’ll see something or someone, and he will frown, and she knows his thought have gone somewhere she can’t reach. One time he convinces her to come with him to the chateaux and stay the night. She resists as hard as she can, the sinking feeling in her stomach telling her that it’s a terrible idea, but when he tells her that he wants the chance to fall asleep next to her, and pulls on her hand like an excited puppy, she finds that she can’t say no.

When she wakes up the next morning, she regrets it. He is already up, chin propped up on his elbow, staring at her with as stupid grin on his face.

“You’re so beautiful.” He tells her.

She mutters something meaningless and scrambles out of bed, pulling on her clothes awkwardly. She can hear the rest of the house waking up around her, and all she wants is to be gone, but Haise wraps his arms around her waist, kisses her on the neck and insists on making her breakfast. So she finds herself hovering awkwardly in the kitchen, clutching a mug of hot coffee as Haise sweats over an ever-growing pile of pancakes. Touka wonders, for a heart-stopping moment if he expects her to eat them all, but then there is a clattering of feet, and a slight young man appears in the kitchen. They make eye contact and he flushes.

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” He says. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Don’t lie.” A second figure has appeared, flashing a sharp-toothed grin. “They weren’t exactly keeping it quite last night.”

He spins around, and slumps into a seat, revealing another, smaller figure hanging off his back. The girl’s eyes are still closed and she is breathing heavily, as though asleep, but when Haise smacks down a quivering mound of pancakes in front of her, she moves like lightning to attack them with her fork. Touka glances down at the equally impressive stack her boyfriend has given her, and tries her best not to wretch. As she glances around, trying to postpone the inevitable, she notices that he has set out only four plates of pancakes and her heart flutters. In a way she is relieved. The fact that he’s still, at least this much, like her, is a comfort.

But he catches her staring. “I don’t really go for breakfast.” He tells her, hand firmly clutching his chin. “Just a cup of coffee will do to keep me going.”

There is an awkward flurry of throats clearing and overly-conspicuous eating, and Touka feels almost nauseous. But she fakes a smile and offers him a peck on the cheek. She makes damn well sure to clear every scrap off her plate before she leaves though.

She doesn’t go back to the chateaux again, and he never asks. He starts coming to hers sometimes though, and while it means that she’s constantly on edge, afraid that he might find some hint of evidence against her, there’s something calming about having him around. Even with him sat on her sofa, poring over a file, she finds it hard to believe that he won’t disappear again, and whenever she wakes up, her hands automatically skim across the sheets, searching for the warmth of his body. They settle into a rhythm of sorts, seeing each other most days, though with his busy schedule it is never certain when they’ll be able to see each other for more than an hour or so. One time, when Haise has been out of contact for a few days, he takes her out to dinner at a fancy restaurant, saying that he owes her a proper date to make up for it. It is the worst night of her life. There is something almost comedic about the two of them taking it in turns to rush to the toilets to throw up their meal, then returning the table and gushing about how much they are enjoying themselves. She appreciates the sentiment though. Sometimes, she thinks that he’s going to tell her everything- because, after all, how long can he plan to keep this façade going?- but he never does. Instead, he will make some corny pun, and busy himself with some useless chore. She thinks it’s to hide the pain in his eyes.

The whole, stupid pretence comes crashing down on a miserable, rainy afternoon. The café is empty, and Touka is bored when the front door slams open and he stumbles in. One hand is clutched across his face, as though in pain, and for a moment she thinks that he is injured and her heart skips a beat. But as Haise catches sight of her he straightens and barrels across the room, kissing her fiercely. There is no hint of blood anywhere.

“Sorry.” He whispers as they pull back for breath, so quietly that she thinks he might have imagined it. “He-“ But he cuts himself off, pressing his lips firmly back in place against hers. There is a power to his movements that she hasn’t noticed before as he drags her into the storeroom, and for a moment she wonders if it’s _him_ she’s kissing, but as he forces his hands against her eyes she knows it can’t be. He’s not wearing a tie today, so his palms have to do to block out her vision as he kisses her neck roughly. As their lips connect again, Touka feels her stomach flip-flop. His hands are trailing roughly across her body now, curling between her legs and- wait. Touka blinks beneath the warmth on Haise’s palms. His palms are pressed against her face. And yet she can still feel his touch exploring her body. She pulls away roughly. His kakugan blazes bright into her face, and the thick red tendril curled around her thighs pull away. There is something incredibly delicious about it, but also something wrong. So terribly, terribly wrong.

“Haise.” She says softly, but he jerks as though she has slapped him. Maybe she still will. She hasn’t decided yet. But before she can say anything else he stumbles backwards, and his kagune whips violently around the stock room, knocking tins from the shelves and tossing bags of flour to the floor. Something hits Touka but she ignores it. “It’s okay.” She tells him. Haise’s eyes are wide and frightened, but there’s something else there too, lurking in the corners. Is it recognition? Or is it madness? Somehow she can’t tell. So she reaches out her hand, placing it gently onto his shoulder, and suddenly Haise drops to the floor, head in his hands. The red tendrils snap back into his spine as quickly as they came and he begins to mutter softly to himself. If Touka strains she can almost hear what he is saying.

“IamHaiseSasaki.IamHaiseSasaki.IamHaiseSasake.IamHaiseSasaki-” It is a furious mantra, spat rather than spoken. Touka sinks down to the ground, pulling her knees up to her chest and lets him keep going until the tears have dried up from his eyes and he runs out of words. Finally he raises his head and looks at her for a long moment. “Touka, I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t know what to say so she smiles gently. “It’s okay.” She tells him. But it feels like someone has cut her open and ripped out her heart, and she knows exactly what’s happening. She’s losing him again.

He doesn’t bother trying to explain or say goodbye. He mutters another apology, and stands up. “I lost control.” He tells her. “I couldn’t stop him from wanting you.”

And in that moment Touka knows. Kaneki had been there, and he wants her just as much as she wants him, even after all this damn time. It should make her happy, but instead she finds herself blinking back sharp, angry tears.

They don’t say anything else. Haise leans forwards, as though to kiss her, then hesitates and turns away. He slams the door behind him on the way out of the café, and the sign rattles loudly against the door as Touka collapses into a chair and slams her fist against the table top.

He doesn’t come back for coffee again, and she doesn’t see him for what feels like a lifetime. When they meet again, the white has gone from his hair and he is wearing glasses. Everything is different. But the feelings are still there, bubbling up like lava, and she knows that, much as she hates it, she’s still not over him.


End file.
